Gold Orlaith Clutches (OPEN)

[Zen]

Marvealle’s Clutch Pixel

It had been a good Flight. Orlaith had flown far and fast, teased and evaded Greth, nearly been caught by him before Talaria’s desperate mental scream of NO! had her wheeling away from the older Bronze’s grasp just in time. And Zevranth had been ready for her. The newcomer Bronze was in his prime and Orlaith thought him rather handsome, but she had originally intended to be caught by Greth yet again, Zevranth just a little too new to Western, she hadn’t had quite enough time to get a good judge of him yet. Greth doted on her whenever he got the chance and Orlaith rather enjoyed that. But Talaria’s mental scream at her had held oh so much desperation she had pulled away and flown right into Zevranth’s grasp instead. Zevranth had doted on her as well, he would be a good choice.

Talaria had nothing against Greth, he was a good dragon, but his rider was insufferable. Not a sevenday before the Flight she and G’brel had argued yet again, this time about A’dion, who she had approved the transfer for without G’brel’s consent. The sharding old man was paranoid and selfish. He’d turned away plenty of Bronzerider transfer requests simply because he was afraid they would take his place. G’brel had waited a long time for his chance to be Weyrleader and wasn’t going to let any kneehigh to a crawler upstart take it away from him. Shard it all. They needed more Bronzeriders, and Blackriders too, G’brel had let few enough of them transfer. They needed dragons that could last full Threadfalls now that Thread was an imminent threat. Sharding fool thought only of himself.

But Zevranth had caught Orlaith. The transfer she had approved behind his back had taken the man down and what a glorious feeling that was! She hadn’t really known anything of A’dion at the time, but surely anyone would be better than G’brel. As it was now, she had mixed feelings for the new Weyrleader. Sometimes it seemed they existed simply to drive each other mad and at other times… well… he was certainly better than G’brel, much better.

She sat on the lowest of the tiered stone seats within the Hatching Cave, watching Orlaith stepping daintily among her clutch, only laid the day before. Among them were more blows to G’brel’s pride. It was the best clutch Orlaith had ever laid, 22 eggs in all with not only a Grey but a Gold as well. Most of Orlaith’s clutches with Greth were lower than average, even for it being an Interval. The most she’d ever laid with Greth as the sire was 15, and there’d been a few duds there anyway. Even her first clutch back at Benden had counted 17 with only one dud. She nearly laughed aloud as she surveyed the 22 eggs, the Gold and Grey Orlaith set a little apart from the rest. There was another egg, slightly larger than the Grey with flecks of burnt orange spiraling around the shell that she was sure would hatch out a Bronze as well.

“They are beautiful, my love,” she voiced quietly as the pale Gold turned to look at her, “Your very best clutch yet. I’m proud of you.”

Thank you; they are quite lovely, aren’t they? Orlaith trilled softly as she nudged more sand up around her precious Gold egg. It was good Iroth hadn’t risen yet. Orlaith suffered her only just on those few occasions when they had to share the Hatching Sands and with a Gold egg in this clutch Talaria was sure she would have none of Iroth near her eggs this time.

“Indeed they are, love. Everyone will be wanting to admire them, especially your Gold.” Oh how she’d rub that one right in G’brel’s face. She was almost as proud of this clutch as Orlaith was herself. Now that the Gold was finished laying and arranging her eggs she could let the rest of the Weyr know. Orlaith wasn’t likely to let too many near them just yet, since they’d only just been laid, but in a day or two she’d happily allow Talaria to parade people through to admire the large clutch and the promise of two more clutching females for Western.

Zevranth, do come. See our clutch. Yours may come as well, she sent to her mate. He would say nice things about her eggs, even nicer than everyone else because they were his.

[A'dion]

A'dion made his way up behind Talaria, and rested his large, warm hand on her shoulder,

"Your Orlaith laid a beautiful clutch. Zevranth has not stopped preening since he found out. He is on his way." In a rare instance of affection, he gripped her shoulder before going to cross his arms, "G'brel still gives me evil looks. Have clutches from Greth really been that bad?" The bronzer had never actually figured to become Weyrleader in the short time he'd spent at Western, but Zevranth had been a crafty little sneak up in the air, catching the beautiful gold when she'd wheeled away from bronze Greth. A'dion had had his way with Orlaith's equally beautiful rider, and had become rather infatuated with her ... though she still infuriated him with her ridiculously independent self. Just once, he wanted a woman that would let him be the man he was to her, a protector and a caretaker. Sigh.

Meanwhile, Zevranth was snaking his way into the Hatching Cavern. Coming behind his golden mate, he rubbed his left cheek against her right, before lowering his head to brush his nose gently against the Grey and Golden eggs, to make sure they were safe and intact before whuffing as he slowly settled himself behind her and rested his long neck on her back,

Beautiful Orlaith. We have done well ... you have done well. I am proud to have you as a mate, and to be yours. He dragged his muzzle against her hide, up to her cheek where he nuzzled her again before resting his head on her back again.

A'dion snickered to his dragon's cuddly demeanor around the Gold,

"Heh ... normally, he isn't that cuddly. Also, Talaria, I have something for you." Reaching into his leather vest, he pulled out a small bag containing a piece of jewelry on a pewter chain. Nigh indestructable. "I had it made especially for you. I hope you like it." He rarely got gifts for anyone, not even his family. Talaria must mean SOMETHING to the man.

[Note: The ruby will be a topaz in this scene, kthnx.]

[Zen]

Orlaith kept an eye on A’dion as he approached. She didn’t want anyone getting too close to her eggs just yet, they were still rather soft and vulnerable. Talaria looked up at him as he laid his hand on her shoulder. She leaned back with a smile, looking the eggs over once more, “Zevranth has good reason to preen. A clutch like this is just what we needed.” The looming threat of Thread hung over her head more than ever these days, a threat G’brel liked to conveniently forget when it suited him.

She made a rather disagreeable sound when A’dion mentioned the man, “I wouldn’t say they were bad… just… small. Greth is a good dragon, but he’s a small Bronze and not built for as much endurance as you’d expect out of one. It made for shorter flights which in turn resulted in the smaller clutches, but Orlaith would have none of the others.” She wrinkled her nose distastefully; how G’brel gloated after a flight, like he owned her or something. Orlaith had been hard pressed to keep her from striking the man on more occasions than she could remember.

“G’brel on the other hand… well…,” she hadn’t words to describe her dislike for the much older rider, “He’s a good Wingleader, but not at all fit to be Weyrleader, as much as he thinks he is. The Weyr needs someone who thinks about the Weyr and not just about himself.” Looking back up at A’dion, she tilted her head slightly, “If Zevranth hadn’t caught Orlaith, I honestly would have feared for our survival when Threadfall begins. We don’t have quite the numbers I had hoped to have by this time thanks to G’brel allowing so few transfers through and Orlaith’s smaller clutch sizes….” For what reason the man had limited the number of other color transfers she hadn’t the faintest idea but there they were with barely three Wings even after ten Turns.

Orlaith crooned happily as Zevranth made his way to her side. She curled into him slightly and laid her head on the sands between her two most prized eggs. Talaria tells me it is my best clutch yet. It is quite wonderful, is it not? She closed her eyes, quite tired after laying them all and arranging them to her liking with no sleep between. Now Zevranth was here… perhaps she could get some rest knowing he was there to protect their clutch.

She had been watching Zevranth’s affections for Orlaith with some amusement when A’dion addressed her again. She blinked up at the man, surprised at the news of his gift. He took it gingerly from him to look at it. Like most females Talaria enjoyed the pretty and the shiny, but most of the time she didn’t really feel it was necessary to own such things and would only rarely buy them for herself if she spotted something particularly of interest to her.

She held the pendant in one hand, her thumb brushing over it as she inspected the details and workmanship of the piece with a certain girlish delight. “Oh…,” she looked back up at A’dion, “A’dion… why… I mean… something like this….” She shook her head, “I-I can’t… I don’t have anything to give to you and….” However, she was hard pressed to hand it back to him. He’d had it made especially for her? But why?

Orlaith opened one eye sleepily toward the riders, feeling Talaria’s confusing mix of emotions. Are you not supposed to say ‘thank you’ when someone gives you a gift?

Talaria gave the Gold a sharp glance, though she was right. “Erhm… thank you, A’dion. It is very beautiful, I….” Talaria was not often at a loss for words, it was very off-putting. Orlaith rumbled softly, quite amused at her rider for acting so strange when her mate’s rider was simply showing her some affection. She, on the other hand, was quite enjoying Zevranth’s affections.

[A'dion]

“I wouldn’t say they were bad… just… small. Greth is a good dragon, but he’s a small Bronze and not built for as much endurance as you’d expect out of one. It made for shorter flights which in turn resulted in the smaller clutches, but Orlaith would have none of the others.”

“G’brel on the other hand… well…,” she hadn’t words to describe her dislike for the much older rider, “He’s a good Wingleader, but not at all fit to be Weyrleader, as much as he thinks he is. The Weyr needs someone who thinks about the Weyr and not just about himself.” Looking back up at A’dion, she tilted her head slightly, “If Zevranth hadn’t caught Orlaith, I honestly would have feared for our survival when Threadfall begins. We don’t have quite the numbers I had hoped to have by this time thanks to G’brel allowing so few transfers through and Orlaith’s smaller clutch sizes….”

As she spoke, A'dion listened intently. G'brel was rather upset at A'dion for taking the Weyrleadership from him, but if what Talaria said was true, then the Weyr was better off without him leading. Even as selfish as A'dion himself was (who wasn't a little selfish), he would never put his own desires above that of the safety of those under his care. And that meant all of Western, now. He hmph'd,

"How, pray tell, did you get my glorious self here then?" He asked her, arching a brow at his Weyrmate, so enjoying teasing the gorgeous woman. It was rare that they bantered back and forth, between getting transfers settled and Searching Candidates from other Weyrs. Kenessia and her Loriath had successfully Searched three Candidates, two from Telgar and one from High Reaches. For now, the Greenrider was resting and relaxing from sevendays of Searching.

“Oh…,” she looked back up at A’dion, “A’dion… why… I mean… something like this….” She shook her head, “I-I can’t… I don’t have anything to give to you and….”

The bronzer had the grace to color,

"It's a gift, Talaria. I don't want anything in return." He cared for her, simply because Zevranth cared for Orlaith. It was rare that a Weyrleader and Weyrwoman ever 'loved' each other, normally following what their dragons decided. A'dion wasn't too keen on love so soon after the loss of Derenda, but Talaria was slowly worming her way into his heart, in her own special sort of way.

Zevranth was quite happy to shower such affection on the Gold. After all, she was his mate, she deserved such. He gave his Rider a long look,

You are ... different, with my mate's rider. You are not as ... lecherous.

She'd beat the dung out of me if I tried.

... You idiot.

Yes, but I'm a very good looking idiot.

Zevranth would've rolled his eyes if he could have, and crooned to Orlaith, They are gorgeous indeed, as are you. Sleep, my Queen. I will watch our clutch. And so he would. As she laid down, he rested his head over her neck and then alongside it, keeping his eye on the soft, vulnerable eggs. Pride seemed to radiate from his coppery hide, and if he could have, he would've been wagging his tail.

[tealah]

Excuse me, D'ak, but you wished to be informed when Orlaith clutched, and she has done so.

D'ak glanced up sharply from his task - repairing his spare set of riding straps - at the sound of Rayth's deep mental voice. The black's head was peering around into the weyr from his ledge. He sounded, and looked, vaguely worried, and he sighed resignedly as though his fears had been confirmed by D'ak's next words.

"Good. Bring me down to the hatching cavern. I want to see them." He had already stood to put away the straps when he heard Rayth's sigh. "Don't look at me like that, dragon."

Rayth huffed at him, and shook his head reproachfully. We would be interrupting Orlaith and Zevranth, and we were not invited to approach her eggs. It would be incredibly rude, D'ak.

D'ak just patted Rayth's scarred muzzle. "There is no reason not to go... congratulate them on their so marvelous Flight's result." Despite his sarcasm and the cold glitter in his eyes as he said that, D'ak appeared impassive - but Rayth could sense his tightly suppressed bitterness that the newcomer had managed to secure the Weyrleadership that he himself had not been able to wrest from G'brel. "If you don't bring me to the cavern, I'll just walk there anyway."

Rayth huffed again. You never say please, Mine. Would it kill you to just once say please?

"Yes, yes it would." When Rayth just continued to stare at him, D'ak rolled his eyes. "Fine. Pleeeasssse will you bring me to the hatching cavern?" He dragged the word out in an exaggerated hiss.

Thank you. Though he still had his misgivings about his rider's insistence, Rayth crouched as much as he could without putting his crippled leg down, to make it easier for D'ak to settle himself, then he hopped forward to the edge and simply glided down to the hatching cavern's ledge. He would have hung back, but D'ak immediately strode forward so the black felt it would be best to announce him quickly before his rudeness upset Orlaith. Most beautiful Orlaith, my rider and I have come to congratulate you and to admire your most wonderous clutch. We do not wish to intrude. He sent another reproachful glance at D'ak, who was standing at the edge of the stands surveying the clutch without acknowledging the Weyrwoman or the new Weyrleader. Rayth knew that his rider was just fighting to hide his disappointment, but he couldn't help but shake his head at the implied rudeness.

[Zen]

She gave a soft snort at his arrogant statement, “A combination of luck and patience. When your transfer request came G’brel was elsewhere, Faranth knows what he was up to, and I sent word back at once before G’brel could get wind of it that you’d be welcome here. There had been the occasional Bronzerider transfer request before, but G’brel had always been about to reject them, and besides, they were too far away from Orlaith’s rising. Even if another Bronzer had managed to transfer through earlier G’brel probably could have found a reason to transfer them back before they became a threat to him. You weren’t here a sevenday before Orlaith rose, he didn’t have time to find a legitimate reason to send you off, and then Zevranth won the flight and now he has no say in the matter. It all worked out so perfectly….”

She cleared her throat softly and looked back at the necklace for a moment longer before putting it on, feeling a little self-conscious, which was another rarity for Talaria. She felt like she owed A’dion something for it still, though he had made it clear he expected nothing in return. No, if the foolish man wanted to give her little trinkets… but it was a very pretty little trinket…. She was stuck on if she should or shouldn’t do something as a show of appreciation when Orlaith growled lowly, a warning orange tingeing her eyes as she gazed toward the ledge where D’ak was approaching.

She was tired and her eggs only newly laid. Who was this fool to come traipsing in without an invitation!? The Black’s words soothed her only slightly. If the rider was a fool, at least the dragon had some sense. Rayth was one of hers, of course, so that was to be expected. Tell your rider to stay away from my eggs. He is lucky I allow him to see them at all. He is not allowed on my Sands!

Talaria had risen to her feet and made her way over, meanwhile, her gaze narrowed at the Blackrider who so blatantly ignored her and Orlaith, “You fool, what are you thinking barging into the Hatching Cave like that!? You’re sharding lucky Orlaith isn’t as broody as most Golds or she’d have flayed you with one swipe of her claw!” Perhaps she was exaggerating a tad, but there were certain Queens that may have done just that.

[A'dion]

Zevranth stared toward Rayth, another male who came close to his golden mate and their eggs. He arched his neck as the Black (who had sense enough to stay back) announced himself and his rider's intention. Orlaith had already told the Black to keep his rider away, but Zevranth was more .. personal about such things. He had never sired a clutch, and thus Orlaith and the eggs were particularly special to him. He stood and growled, bearing his Impressive bulk in a show of dominance. This was his Weyr, his Queen and his clutch. Out of respect for his golden love, he simply stared with a particularly angry red multi-faceted gaze at D'ak. The obvious look of a predator staring at his prey, warning it against further intrusion.

A'dion raised his hand before Zevranth started fussing, and gently took Talaria's upper arm,

"Weyrwoman," he emphasized her rank, letting D'ak know just where he was and who he was dealing with, "I will handle this." And he turned that dark brown gaze on the Blackrider. The 6'4'' Weyrleader loomed,

"Wingrider D'ak ... I would advise that, in the future, you show the respect and courtesy that our Queen and her Rider have earned. I also advise that you and your dragon rest yourselves. You will be on Watchrider duty for a sevenday for your insubordination. Be glad I am not allowing Zevranth to administer the punishment." The bronze growled right as he said those words, and A'dion stood to his full height, arms crossed behind his back, "You are dismissed, Wingrider." If Orlaith was agitated, that meant so was Talaria. And as much as he liked the Weyrwoman, she was a pain in the ass to deal with when she was upset. Not to mention that D'ak was a concern later when Orlaith rose again. Zevranth wouldn't allow another Dragon to take his Queen, and A'dion certainly wasn't going to let D'ak have his-- I mean Talaria for himself.

Watchrider duty may not seem like much of a punishment, but as D'ak had done little more than simply be rude to Talaria and intrude upon a Queen's newly laid clutch, he figured it was better to simply put the other man on Watchrider duty than to have him flogged.

[tealah]

Rayth shifted his weight awkwardly - awkward as much for the situation as it was for his leg - and rumbled in acknowledgment of Orlaith's words. Of course, loveliest of queens. My rider means only to gaze upon them and admire their magnificence, as I wished to admire your beauty once more. He was simply too caught by their splendor to remember his manners. Right, Mine? This last was hissed to D'ak as he turned to face the Weyrwoman.

"I've been here long enough to be aware that Orlaith is no Ramoth, Weyrwoman Talaria," he returned passively, referencing the famed gold whose temper was as legendary as her supposed deed. "I had no intention of approaching further. But," he added when his black rumbled urgently at him, "Perhaps I..." D'ak stopped speaking abruptly when A'dion began. Only a slight tightening of the muscles in his jaw betrayed his surge of anger at the man's words. Insubordination? He'd show the man sharding insubordination... But D'ak choked down his anger.

"Watchrider duty? If you really think that necessary, Weyrleader, I would be more than happy to lend my expertise to keeping the Weyr safe," he drawled in a tone one might use responding to the demands of a child. He ignored the bronze dragon's posturing - only hatchling dragons or broody queens would harm a human no matter what threats the Weyrleader and his dragon were implying. Besides, Rayth would stop any attempt at dismemberment.

Would I? Rayth asked dryly. I might just let Zevranth eat you for not listening to me earlier.

Hush, dragon. His eyes focused coldly on the Weyrleader a moment after his dismissal before he turned back to Talaria. "My congratulations on Orlaith's clutch, Weyrwoman Talaria. Good day."

With that he turned on his heel, intending to return to Rayth's side. He didn't slink - D'ak would never slink from a confrontation - but instead moved away as uncaringly as though A'dion had not assigned him a punishment detail. Inside an insistent feeling nagged at him (not good enough, never good enough for a goldrider, never as good as the bronzeriders who fawn over them, useless) but he suppressed it ruthlessly, and outwardly he remained as impassive as he'd been when he entered the cavern.

Do please let your rider know that D'ak meant no disrespect to her, or to you, Rayth continued as D'ak stalked toward the ledge.

[Zen]

Sabath had been keeping half a mind on the Hatching Cave. He had alerted M’kal when Orlaith had begun her clutching and only recently informed his rider that the Gold had finished fussing over her eggs and was going to rest, and that Zevranth and His had arrived to see the clutch. M’kal was debating if he should go or not. He knew Sabath would not be welcome there; Orlaith had no love for her Black clutchbrother. He forbade Sabath from going, actually, knowing how much his dragon loved to irritate the Gold.

It would be no trouble for me to fly you down, you know.

There was a rather malicious undertone to his dragon’s words and he grimaced, No, Sabath. You’ll leave Orlaith be. Since you insist upon forever getting on her bad side, at least wait until after her clutch has hatched. This is no time to be getting her riled.

The great Black turned an eye toward his rider, taking on a feigned innocent tone, What? All I did was offer to take you to the Hatching Cave. And this is the response I get? Accusations?

M’kal rubbed his hand over his face in exasperation before Sabath broke in once more.

It seems someone has gone and upset Orlaith for me.... Rayth is there, it must be his rider’s fault. I’m sure Rayth is much too busy fawning over her to upset her. He snorted derisively and peered from their weyr, down in the general direction of the Hatching Cave.

Orlaith is upset? What happened? He strode over to his dragon and followed his gaze, as if he might be able to see into the Hatching Cave from where he was and know what was going on.

Sabath settled his head onto the ground disinterestedly, Who knows. It doesn’t take much to upset Orlaith. Perhaps he broke wind and forgot to say ‘excuse me’, he suggested drily.

“Sabath!” M’kal hissed back, giving the Black’s neck a slap, which he most likely barely felt, “Anyway, Orlaith really is fairly even-tempered, especially for a Gold.”

Is she? I would hate to meet another Gold, then. They must be unbearable.

M’kal only shook his head, Your mother was quite temperamental if I remember correctly. Made us all nervous as Candidates to get anywhere near your eggs. Most of us, anyway…. He recalled that Talaria had been quite unconcerned about facing the Gold’s wrath when it came to getting near that Gold egg on the Sands…. He smiled slightly; that was why she was a Goldrider and a Weyrwoman.

… You are daydreaming again?

“Huh?” M’kal blinked up at his dragon, confused for a moment, “Oh…. Yes, I suppose…. Just remembering. Anyway, if Orlaith is upset then its likely Talaria is as well. Perhaps I should go after all. And you’re not to say a word to Orlaith except to announce us, understand?”

Sabath snorted once more and did not respond, only shifted to better allow M’kal onto his back and took off for the short glide down to the Hatching Cave. Mine comes to see to your rider. Fear not for he has forbade me to speak to you and I shall be returning to our weyr after I’ve delivered him.

Orlaith lifted her head as Sabath’s message reached her and let out another low growl. So insolent, that Black. Her tail lashed once at the very thought of him. Not at all like her Zevranth. Lovely Zevranth. He would take care of Sabath if he did not heed his rider and return to his weyr once he’d finished his little task. Your rider is welcome, he knows how to behave, unlike you.

You wound me, Oh Queen, he replied as sarcastically as he could manage, landing on the large ledge of the Hatching Cave. M’kal dismounted and shot his dragon a reproachful look, but was unsure if Sabath saw or not for almost as soon as his feet had touched the ground the Black took back to the air. M’kal eyed him for a moment as he rose before turning to make his way into the cave. He passed Rayth with a nod to the other Black.

Talaria couldn’t decide whether D’ak was being sarcastic or not when he’d offered his congratulations and his indifference to the punishment A’dion had given him had her clenching her hands into tight fists. She opened her mouth to shout something after the Blackrider when Orlaith spoke.

Sabath’s is here to see you. His is much nicer than Rayth’s, I’ll allow him near. With that she lowered her head to the sand once more and closed her eyes. Perhaps she could get some rest now. All these interruptions were growing irritating.

“M’kal?” As D’ak passed from view, the man in question appeared. M’kal thought it better not to say anything to D’ak and simply gave him a polite nod as he had his dragon as he passed the other Blackrider. Talaria shifted to a stubborn stance, her hands fisted on her hips, as M’kal stopped to bow toward Orlaith briefly, who had opened one eye to see if he would pay her the proper respect she deserved.

He surveyed the eggs quickly, spotting the noticeable Gold and Grey, and straightened once more, “A most marvelous clutch, Queen Orlaith. The whole Weyr will rejoice in your good work.”

Orlaith huffed appreciatively and closed her eye once more, This one has a sweet tongue. Give him my thanks for his compliments. He is welcome here. Talaria glanced over at her tired dragon and back at M’kal as the man approached further.

“Weyrwoman Talaria, Weyrleader A’dion,” he nodded to each of them in turn.

Talaria waved her hand at him impatiently, however, “Oh, M’kal, enough.” As much of a stickler to formalities and titles as Talaria could be, it just seemed strange with M’kal. They were candidates and weyrlings together and had been friends too long for ranks and titles to come between them.

He smiled and tilted his head slightly, “That’s a lovely necklace.”

“Wh-“ she felt her face flame and couldn’t help a glance toward A’dion. She looked back toward Orlaith in attempt to halfway hide her reddened face, “Y-yes. Thank you.” She cleared her throat and attempted to regain her composure, “Orlaith thanks you for your compliments and says you are welcome in the Hatching Cave.”

M’kal raised an eyebrow, not used to seeing Talaria falter, but decided to simply change the subject rather than dwell on it, “It really is a wonderful clutch. A Gold egg even! How many eggs in total?”

Talaria raised her chin proudly, “Twenty-two. Her largest clutch yet.”

M’kal gave a soft whistle of appreciation, “Well then, we better step up the Searching, eh? I know we don’t usually have A’zael leave the Western Continent to Search what with his Candidate Master duties but perhaps we should send him farther, along with the other Searchriders… and encourage the older weyrbrats to Stand? There’s really quite a few more eggs than we’re used to.” He turned to survey the clutch more closely with a glance at A’dion, “Zevranth did well with her.” A grin quirked up one side of his mouth.

Talaria felt herself redden ever so slightly once more at M’kal’s reference to the Flight and did not look at A’dion, instead she followed M’kal’s gaze over the eggs and ignored that last comment, “Yes, G’brel is taking it poorly, much to my delight.” A smug smile graced her lips. There were those that said sometimes the male that won the Flight was the male the Weyr most wanted to win. Obviously the rest of Western had been ready for a new Weyrleader as much as she had. If Orlaith had truly wanted Greth, no amount of her mental pleading would have kept the Gold from allowing him to catch her yet again.

“He brings up a good point about the Searches, A’dion…. We have only four Searchriders, we should use them to the fullest. Something G’brel and I have previously agreed upon, amazingly enough, was that A’zael should only Search those on the Western Continent so his Searches wouldn’t keep him long away from the Candidates he has responsibility for, but we’ll need many more Candidates this time and Western does not boast a great population of those of age to be Searched. And perhaps you and I should visit the crèche and speak with the older weyrbrats. Nothing like special attention from the Weyrleaders to get you motivated to do anything they ask, mm?” She chuckled and finally glanced over at the man with a feigned frown, though her eyes still sparkled mischievously, “Though… you might scare them into staying away from the Sands….”